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Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Thursday, everyone! Hope you all had a great Halloween and didn't get too scared *wink* Today, author London Saint James is out Tn'T's Confidential author! She's here to talk a little about her recent release The Good Sister (Part Two) and what inspired her. Welcome London!

Thanks
so much for having me today to talk about my newest release, The Good Sister (Part Two). Inspiration
to write, for me anyway, comes from so many different things. A place, a
picture, a song, a poem, and even quotes. The idea for The Good Sister came
from a quote, and blossomed into a two book series. Here’s the quote that
started it all:

We always long for the forbidden things, and desire
what is denied us.

~Francois Rabelais~

The Good Sister Part Two Blurb:

Trinity
Lane Winslow stepped out of her fantasy world and into the real one on a quest
to obtain the object of her desire—Reid Addison. The pursuit led her to the
infamous Madam Jacqueline Claudette Rousseau, the man she craved, and the
debonair Lord Archer, the man who offered what she really longed for—love.

When
Reid revealed his dark side, he knew he’d sealed his fate and pushed Trinity
into the waiting arms of Lord Archer. Can he live with his decision?

Lord
Archer would do anything for his beautiful Trinity, but is he strong enough to
hold onto her with all that conspire against them?

Note: The Good Sister 2 is the
completion of a two-book, erotic contemporary series. Best if read in order.
The Good Sister 2 contains anal sex, abduction and attempted rape of the heroine
by a secondary character.

The Good Sister Part Two Excerpt:

The ride
back to the chateau was brief, only because I curled up on Ashton and fell
asleep. I was surprised when he woke me with the news we had arrived,
nonetheless happy to feel his lips pressed firmly upon mine. When the kiss
became a little more heated, and I sucked his tongue into my mouth, our exit
from the car waited.

“Ashton,
we should get out of the car because if we continue I may do naughty things.”

Ashton guffawed. “Yes, I am in agreement, my
dove. And by the by, you need to button your shirt.”

“And you
need to zip your pants.”

Clothes
straightened, breath regained, and thoughts cleared, we left the confines of
the car. When we walked through the door of the chateau, everyone came to meet
us. That in itself wasn’t unusual, but what was unusual was the fact everyone
seemed to be on edge.

“Reid is
here,” Breeze confessed in a rush, blurting out the words. “He’s been on a
rant.”

As if a
tornado called forth on cue, Reid stormed into the foyer.

“Fuck!”
he exclaimed, glaring at me. “Do you know how worried I have been about you? I
knew Archer was coming, but you never said anything about leaving with him.”

“Reid,”
Alec, Jacqueline’s muscle and right hand man, said in his warning voice. “You
will calm your voice and control your anger while speaking with Trinity, or I
will throw you out.”

Ashton
stepped in front of me.

“Reid,”
he said, and to my surprise he was using a polite tone. “I understand how you
might worry for Trinity. However, I can assure you, I would never allow any
harm to befall her.”

Reid’s
eyes flickered fury.

“Archer.”
Reid’s voice sounded as though acid was on his tongue. “I really could care
less what you have to say.”

“Stop
it!” I said. I huffed around Ashton, feet planted firmly. “Reid, you have no
claim over me nor do you have any say in who I spend my time with or where I
go.”

Reid
glared at me for a moment then the glare changed to anger apparent as his
features turned to stone. His silver eyes narrowed. Ashton held on to my waist,
as if he were ready to snatch me back and pummel Reid if necessary.

“Trinity,” Reid said through clenched jaw. “Do you want to tell me
something?”

“No,” I
said, lifting the set of my chin.

“So you
don’t want to tell me why you are wearing a fucking rock on your hand?”

Immediately, everyone seemed to stare at my hand.

“Well...”
Ashton smiled. “We were going to make a formal announcement, but since Addison
is set on making a scene,” Ashton said, taking hold of my hand. “I have asked
Trinity to marry me, and she has accepted my proposal.”

A
cacophony of noise followed. Gleeful laughter from all my sisters could be
heard. Sincere congratulations from Alec. A hitching breath from Jacqueline,
and a quite loud, “Fucking hell, you have got to be pulling my dick!” from
Reid.

I
snapped.

“Reid, I
swear. You may be my friend, but I want to punch you in the face!”

I got a little carried away writing today's brief. First I wrote a story that went well beyond the 1400 words, then not liking the result, I went back and changed most of it, although I'm still not entirely satisfied with the ending and I'm 30 words overboard, but I bego your forgiveness, it's almost 2 am.
Finally, may I suggest a little ambiance music? This was one of the songs I used as an accompaniment while writing.It is a short piano piece that matches the story perfectly.

I hope you enjoy today's free read and have a great Spooky Day! (And stay safe!!)

Whispers of the Past

"Welcome to my home, I
am your host this night."

Brenda trudged through the
dark house in silence. How long had it been since she’d heard those words? The
walk across the haunted house had gone from noisy to quiet as soon as she
passed the last passageway. Gone were the screams of the other visitors, gone
were the cries and wails of the actors impersonating all sort of paranormal
creatures. The lights flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to be
watching her hesitant steps through the gloomy hall.

She walked down some stairs
into another hallway. Darkness wrapped around her like a heavy veil, the
burning smell of candles wafting to her nose as the sound of a piano playing in
the distance invited her deeper into the bowels of the house. Brenda hesitated,
listening to the soft fall and rise of the piano, the haunting melody familiar. A
nervous tingling began to form in her belly and she shivered, wandering if she
should turn back.

A child screamed not too
far ahead and she hurried through the unsettling gloom, confident that the exit
was near. A thick mist began to form in
the passage accompanied by a chilly breeze that caused the hairs on her neck to
bristle. She quickened her step, seeing in every shadow a dark presence that
watched her. Her palms grew clammy and her footsteps heavy, a feeling of
trepidation causing her pulse to quicken.

She rounded another corner
and descended a few more steps. The heady smell of burning wood caused her head
to swim and she leaned against the wall, attempting to gather her wits.Brenda screamed, the sound tearing from her
throat in a high pitched wail as the puff of a breath caressed her earlobe. She
ran blindly, without knowledge of her whereabouts, fear urging her on. Stumbling, she skidded to a
stop. Her heart fluttered against her throat, and she clamped her mouth,
swallowing the cry desperate to break lose. Candles littered every surface,
bathing the place in an almost magical yellow glow, but it was the grand piano
and the man sitting before it what caused her unease.

“I’ve been waiting for you,
Brenda.”

The man spoke in a deep,
cavernous voice that made a shiver to race down her spine. Her mind urged her
to flee but she stood rooted to the ground, listening to the eerie melody
coming from the piano. She took a step closer, watching mesmerized as the man played
the haunting tune, his long fingers sliding over every yellow key with gentle
precision. Every note brought with it a vague feeling of familiarity, a sense
of calm. It was a strange melody, yet it was also terribly familiar. It was like
listening to an old lullaby, soft and soothing, it was a song you knew your mother had hummed when you were a babe yet you never recalled the exact tune.

“Do you remember, yet?”

Brenda lifted her gaze to
the man’s face. He sat in shadow, his long dark locks hiding his features from
her, yet she had the uncanny feeling that she knew what she’d find. Dark
mesmerizing eyes framed by beautiful long lashes, a slightly hooked nose – a
blemish by some, a sign of aristocracy by others-. However, it was his lips
what urged her to approach him, the terror she’d felt earlier gone. She walked
toward him, her footsteps light and noiseless upon the carpet. She expected him
to turn toward her at any moment, but he continued playing as if oblivious to
her presence. She paused at his side, watching his hands caress the keys,
wishing they were upon her skin, touching and claiming her. She reached for
him, placing her small hand over his, stopping the soulful music. He turned to
her, his dark eyes searching her face. Brenda smiled. Her gaze lowered to the
full lips, perfect for drawing between your teeth and nipping. She didn’t
hesitate as she lowered her mouth to his, capturing the warm flesh and tugging,
drawing a tortured groan from him. His hands wrapped around her waist pulling
her to his lap and she laughed, her fear a forgotten memory. She lowered her
gaze to her lap and laughed harder. Gone were her jeans and coat, in its stead
a long overflowing dress of burgundy hugged her curves in all the right places.
Her hand shot to her hair and she grinned. Lose strands of thick honey colored
curls grazed her shoulders, the ponytail she’d worn earlier, vanished.

“Brenda.”

“Gaston.” Wrapping her arms
around him, she hugged him tightly, tears filling her eyes. It had been so
long, too long, since she’d been in her lover’s arms. Memories rushed a fore: a
wicked fire, peeling wallpaper, fallen furniture, trapped in the basement
making love as their house burned above them, a promise to never forget. They’d
found them like that, locked in a deadly embrace. Her world turned and other
memories tangled in her mind: a happy childhood, friends and endless drawings
of a man with dark hair and dark eyes. Brenda stared into Gaston’s eyes, the
tears finally streaming down her face as she realized that her place was no
longer there with him, but with the living. They’d promised never to forget one
another, never to cease searching for a way to reunite and so every Halloween,
when the veil thinned they would meet and be forced to separate again. Gaston leaned
over her, his warm breath fluttering against her ear, causing her to shiver.

“Look
again.”

Brenda glanced into his eyes
and then down at her lap. Gone was the dress. She was back in her old clothes.
Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch Gaston’s knee. Jeans, black
jeans. She stared at him, uncomprehending. Touching her forehead with his, he
inhaled deeply and smiled.

“I can smell your perfume,
I can feel your skin.”

“I don’t understand,” she
asked, her shaking fingers brushing the rough material of clothes she’d never
seen him wear before. Could she believe? Could she believe that he’d found a
way to step across the veil and stay with her in the 21st century forever?

Gaston nodded, grinning. “Happy
All Hollow’s Eve, love.”

More Spooky Halloween Wednesday Brief Flashes? Click on any of the links below!

Monday, October 29, 2012

Welcome to another T n'T's Confidential post! Today, I've got author
Michaela Rhua answering a few questions about her writing and about
herself. Michaela is one of the authors of ARE best selling anthology The
Eclipse of The Blood Moon.

Michaela Rhua is a doctor's
wife who lives life at odd hours depending on when her husband is on call. She
had been known to be up and about at 2 am working on her next erotic tale.

She has three teenage
children; twin boys aged seventeen and a daughter aged fifteen,
who also keep her busy. However, it is whilst travelling on the train into work
that she has time to create her characters and imagine other places in which
they exist as her world skims by the window. Conversations overheard often lead
to the birth of new ideas that she scribbles down in her trusty notebook.

Let's find
out a little more...

Where does
the inspiration for your stories come from?

Inspiration
is everywhere. I travel to work on the train and often I overhear bits of
conversations.The spark ideas that I
jot down in my notebook that I always carry. I work as a surgery manager for a
group of doctors. It's a great place where patients often want to talk about
themselves and their lives.So on the
way home I watch life go by through the window and imagine away.

What is your
favorite writing genre?

I cannot say
what is my favourite. The Eclipse of the Blood Moon is an erotic paranormal. I
must say I do like paranormal because you can put scenes together and let your
imagination go.

What
would you never ever consider writing?

I am not
sure. I think saying never ever is something you come to take back later. The
obvious no go areas are sexual scenes where children are involved or animals or
bodily fluids that are considered waste products.

Do you do
anything special before sitting down to write?

Make a cup
of tea, get the chocolate out and if needed put some music on.

What is your
desired effect on readers?

I hope that
readers become immersed in the story, feeling involved and spirited along on
the journey with my characters

Halloween is
tomorrow! Tell me...

The craziest
thing you’ve done on All Hollow’s Eve

I suppose
the craziest evening would be a story best told by my husband and a very
interesting little devil outfit

Your all
time favorite horror
film?

Bram Stoker's
Dracula. I love the way the director tell the story of the anguished Dracula
looking for his lost love. Beautifully shot and atmospheric.

Your favorite
paranormal creature?

A shifter. I
like the idea of the animalistic side of an Alpha male that is just underneath
the surface!

Alpha's Claim Anthology

The Crimson Rope Anthology

Spanish Diversion

Sinsperationally Yours Anthology

Welcome Aboard

A Decade of Longing

The Mercenary Tales

The Mercenary Knight

The Mercenary Slave (Book 2 of The Mercenary Tales)

The Lost Mercenary (Book 3 of The Mercenary Tales)

Wednesday Briefs

Your Hump Day Free Read

Nanowrimo

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